BOOK IV.

The Argument.

Satan, persisting in the temptation of our Lord, shows him Imperial Rome in its greatest pomp and splendor, as a power which he probably would prefer before that of the Parthians; and tells him that he might with the greatest ease expel Tiberius, restore the Romans to their liberty, and make himself master not only of the Roman Empire, bat, by so doing, of the whole world, and inclusively of the throne of David. Our Lord, in reply, expresses his contempt of grandeur and worldly power; notices the luxury, vanity, and profligacy of the Romans, declaring how little they deserved to be restored to that liberty, which they had lost by their misconduct, and briefly refers to the greatness of his own future kingdom. Satan, now desperate, to enhance the value of his proffer'd gifts, professes that the only terms on which he will bestow them, are our Saviour's falling down and worshipping him. Our Lord expresses a firm but temperate indignation at such a proposition, and rebukes the Tempter by the title of "Satan for ever damned." Satan, abashed, attempts to justify himself: he then assumes a new ground of temptation, and, proposing to Jesus the intellectual gratifications of wisdom and knowledge, points out to him the celebrated seat of ancient learning, Athens, its schools, and other various resorts of learned teachers and their disciples; accompanying the view with a highly-finished panegyric on the Grecian musicians, poets, orators, and philosophers of the different sects. Jesus replies, by showing the vanity and insufficiency of the boasted heathen philosophy; and prefers to the music, poetry, eloquence, and didactic policy of the Greeks, those of the inspired Hebrew writers. Satan, irritated at the failure of all his attempts, upbraids the indiscretion of our Saviour in rejecting his offers; and, having, in ridicule of his expected kingdom, foretold the sufferings that our Lord was to undergo, carries him back into the wilderness, and leaves him there. Night comes

on: Satan raises a tremendous storm, and attempts further to alarm Jesus with frightful dreams, and terrific threatening spectres; which however have no effect upon him. A calm, bright, beautiful morning succeeds to the horrors of the night. Satan again presents himself to our blessed Lord, and from noticing the storm of the preceding night as pointed chiefly at him, takes occasion once more to insult him with an account of the sufferings which he was certainly to undergo. This only draws from our Lord a brief rebuke. Satan, now at the height of his desperation, confesses that he had frequently watched Jesus from his birth, purposely to discover if he was the true Messiab ; and, collecting from what passed at the river Jordan that he most probably was so, he had from that time more assiduously followed him, in hopes of gaining some advantage over him, which would most effectually prove that he was not really that Divine Person destined to be his "fatal enemy." In this he acknowledges that he has hitherto completely failed; but still determines to make one more trial of him. Accordingly he conveys him to the temple at Jerusalem, and, placing him on a pointed eminence, requires him to prove his Divinity either by standing there, or casting himself down with safety. Our Lord reproves the Tempter, and at the same time manifests his own Divinity by standing on this dangerous point. Satan, amazed and terrified, instantly falls; and repairs to his infernal Compeers, to relate the bad success of his enterprise. Angels in the meantime convey our blessed Lord to a beautiful valley; and, while they minister to him a repast of celestial food, celebrate his victory in a triumphant hymn.

PERPLEX'D and troubled at his bad success
The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,
Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope
So oft; and the persuasive rhetoric

That sleek'd his tongue, and won so much on Eve,
So little here, nay lost; but Eve was Eve;
This far his over-match; who, self-deceived
And rash, before-hand had no better weigh'd
The strength he was to cope with, or his own:

But as a man, who had been matchless held

In cunning, over-reach'd where least he thought, To salve his credit, and for every spite

Still will be tempting him who foils him still,
And never cease, though to his shame the more:
Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time,

About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd,
Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound:
Or surging waves against a solid rock,

Though all to shivers dash'd, the assault renew,
(Vain battery!) and in froth or bubbles end:
So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse

Met ever, and to shameful silence brought,
Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success,
And his vain importunity pursues.

He brought our Saviour to the western side
Of that high mountain, whence he might behold
Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide,
Wash'd by the southern sea, and, on the north,
To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills
That screen'd the fruits of the'earth, and seats of men,
From cold septentrion blasts; thence in the midst
Divided by a river, of whose banks

On each side an imperial city stood,
With towers and temples proudly elevate
On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd,
Porches, and theatres, baths, aqueducts,
Statues, and trophies, and triumphal arcs,
Gardens, and groves, presented to his eyes,
Above the highth of mountains interposed
(By what strange parallax, or optic skill
Of vision, multiplied through air, or glass
Of telescope, were curious to inquire;)
And now the Tempter thus his silence broke:

"The city, which thou seest, no other deem Than great and glorious Rome, queen of the earth, So far renown'd, and with the spoils enrich'd Of nations: there the Capitol thou seest, Above the rest lifting his stately head On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel Impregnable; and there mount Palatine, The' imperial palace, compass huge, and high The structure, skill of noblest architects, With gilded battlements conspicuous far, Turrets, and terraces, and glittering spires : Many' a fair edifice besides, more like Houses of gods (so well I have disposed My aëry microscope), thou may'st behold, Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs, Carved work, the hand of famed artificers, In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. Thence to the gates cast round thine What conflux issuing forth, or entering in; Prætors, proconsuls to their provinces Hasting, or on return, in robes of state, Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power, Legions and cohorts, turms of horse and wings ; Or embassies from regions far remote, In various habits, on the Appian road, Or on the' Emilian: some from furthest south, Syene, and where the shadow both

eye,

way

Meroë, Nilotic isle; and, more to west,

and see

falls,

The realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor sea;
From the' Asian kings, and Parthian among these;
From India, and the golden Chersonese,
And utmost Indian isle Taprobane,

Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreathed;
From Gallia, Gades, and the British west;

Germans, and Scythians, and Sarmatians, north
Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool.

All nations now to Rome obedience pay;
To Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain,
In ample territory, wealth, and power,
Civility of manners, arts, and arms,

And long renown, thou justly may'st prefer
Before the Parthian. These two thrones except,
The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight,
Shared among petty kings too far removed:
These having shown thee, I have shown thee all
The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory.
This emperor hath no son, and is now old,
Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired
To Capreæ, an island small, but strong,
On the Campanian shore, with purpose there
His horrid lusts in private to enjoy ;
Committing to a wicked favorite

All public cares, and yet of him suspicious;
Hated of all, and hating. With what ease,
Endued with regal virtues as thou art,
Appearing, and beginning noble deeds,

Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne,
Now made a stye; and, in his place ascending,
A victor people free from servile yoke!
And with my help thou may'st: to me the power
Is given, and by that right I give it thee.
Aim therefore at no less than all the world;
Aim at the highest: without the highest attain'd,
Will be for thee no sitting, or not long,
On David's throne, be prophesied what will.”

To whom the Son of God, unmoved, replied: "Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show Of luxury, though call'd magnificence,